


Tip Your Drivers

by NadiaHart



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Dean Winchester, Awkward Flirting, Crush at First Sight, Crushes, Fluff, Frat Boy Dean Winchester, Grumpy Castiel (Supernatural), Happy Ending, Jock Dean Winchester, M/M, Meet-Cute, Misunderstandings, Pizza Delivery Person Castiel (Supernatural), Pizza Delivery boy Castiel, Pretty Dean Winchester, Profound Bond Zine, Profound Zine: New Beginnings, Profound: Destiel Fan Zine, Shy Dean Winchester, Volume One, meet ugly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-23
Updated: 2019-08-23
Packaged: 2020-09-24 18:43:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20363284
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NadiaHart/pseuds/NadiaHart
Summary: Cas bounces on his toes, huffing out a breath that floats like fog before his eyes. If the pizza box in his hands wasn’t burning his flesh he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to feel anything below the elbow at this point. He’s really tempted to dig his cell phone out,again,to text the frat-douche who’s probably too stoned or drunk to even remember he’s got a pizza comingThe University of Kansas’ Alpha Sigma Phi branch is one of the oldest and largest fraternities on campus. Cas hates doing deliveries to the sprawling old plantation house. Hates driving up to it to hear music blasting and people having fun––having that ‘traditional college experience’, something Cas is woefully missing out on with his full course load andtwopart-time jobs. He hates these stupid rich boys with their whole lives handed to them on a silver platter.





	Tip Your Drivers

**Author's Note:**

> This is my contribution for the Volume one of _Profound: A Destiel Fan Zine._ The theme for Volume One is _New Beginnings_ I decided to write about fixing a bad first impression, because who doesn't wish they could redo a bad first impression?
> 
> Follow [Profound Zine](https://profoundzine.tumblr.com/post/187059735261/pre-orders-for-volume-2-of-profound-a-destiel) on Tumblr. Pre-orders for Vol 2 are now open. You can find another story from me, and many of your other favorite authors and artists in Vol 2! Don't miss out!

Cas bounces on his toes, huffing out a breath that floats like fog before his eyes. If the pizza box in his hands wasn’t burning his flesh he’s sure he wouldn’t be able to feel anything below the elbow at this point. He’s really tempted to dig his cell phone out,  _ again, _ to text the frat-douche who’s probably too stoned or drunk to even remember he’s got a pizza coming. Never mind that Cas  _ just  _ called him to let him know he was here, with said pizza. 

The University of Kansas’ Alpha Sigma Phi branch is one of the oldest and largest fraternities on campus. The guys who get in are either rich snobs whose daddies have paid their way, or are so ridiculously good looking they might as well be models. Cas  _ hates _ doing deliveries to the sprawling old plantation house. Hates driving up to it to hear music blasting and people having fun––having that ‘traditional college experience _ ’ _ , something Cas is woefully missing out on with his full course load and _ two  _ part-time jobs. He hates these stupid rich boys with their whole lives handed to them on a silver platter.

“If I get frostbite….” Cas grumbles, leaning to press the doorbell with his elbow. The piddly– _ bing-bong– _ is immediately swallowed by the music blaring from inside. 

“Come on, you drunk ass.” Cas grunts, jabbing the doorbell again and again. “I’m going to kill Ed for sending me on this run. I’m going to  _ kill _ him.” Just as Cas rears back to kick the front door, it flies open. 

“Woah!” the man who stumbles to a stop on the threshold says, and he is  _ absolutely _ one of those model types. Judging by his faded Henley and how threadbare his jeans are around his knees, this guy got in to Alpha-Sig on looks and not someone else's dime. Cas graces him with an unimpressed frown. 

“Holy shit, it’s cold,” he says, beer-scented breath rising into the space between them. 

There’s a brunette woman draped over his back and she laughs, her cheeks flushed, movements sluggish. “Oh, Dean! Pizza,  _ yes! _ ” She gushes, wrapping her arms more firmly around  _ Dean’s  _ shoulders.

“Lisa, come on,” Dean says, shifting to dislodge her. 

“Yes, pizza.” Cas states, bluntly, “The pizza I’ve been trying to deliver for almost fifteen minutes.”

“Oh shit, really?” Dean grimaces, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his cell phone. “Fuck, man. I didn’t hear my phone go off.”

“_Deeeannn!!_” Lisa whines, her fingers curling around Dean’s thick bicep and tugging. 

“Can we move this along?” Cas shivers, his teeth clacking. “At this point, there's no refund if it’s cold since I’ve been out here so long.”

“Yeah. Dude, of course!” Dean digs into his pocket and pulls out a wad of crumpled bills. Lisa happily takes the pizza from Cas and he grabs the bills from Dean. “I mean, it’s college, cold pizza morning, noon, and night, am I right?” Dean smiles, his eyebrows lifted towards the stupidly attractive backwards cap he’s wearing.

“Whatever,” Cas says, counting the bills, “Are you serious?!”

“Uh, what?” Dean asks, rubbing the back of his neck.

“The pizza’s seventeen bucks, you’ve only given me eighteen fifty!”

“Oh really?” Dean bites his bottom lip, and Cas wants to punch him in his frustratingly handsome face.

“ _ Dean! _ Come  _ on! _ Beer pong, you’re up!”

“Sorry dude, that’s all that I’ve got on me.” He shrugs sheepishly, “I’ll make it up to you. Next time.” And just like that, the door closes in Cas’ face. 

He stands there for far too long, glaring at the closed door, the crumpled wad of bills clutched in his trembling fist. He  _ hates _ this house.

Four and a half weeks later Cas finds himself pulling up to the Alpha Sig house again. Over a month later and everything is exactly the same, except  _ now _ it's  _ colder _ . This late in November, it doesn’t matter what he wears; he’s going to be cold. So, after much trial and error, Cas opts to do his deliveries in a long sleeve Henley with the company’s t-shirt over it. 

Glaring up at the brightly lit house, Cas wills himself to get out of the car. Music’s pouring out of the walls, people dart back and forth past the windows. Unable to contain his envy, he glares down at the pizza boxes stacked in his front seat. His whole car smells like pizza, his whole  _ life _ smells like pizza. Sighing, he drags out his cell phone and punches in the number on the receipt attached to the box. The damn line rings six times and just as Cas is about to end the call, it connects.

“Hey? Yeah, hey. Hello?” 

“GhostPeppers Pizza, your delivery is here.” Cas drones, fighting the growl that's working its way up his throat. There’s something upsettingly familiar about the voice at the other end of the line.

“Oh, shit! Yeah. It's you.  _ Finally!” _ The voice is deep, slurring slightly, but happy in the way only a drunk idiot could be. Cas rolls his eyes. He really doesn't understand people. “Yeah, yeah, come up. I’ll be right down.”

_ Here we go again,  _ Cas thinks as he leans his elbow against the doorbell, the _ bing-bong’s _ instantly devoured by cheers and music from inside. Already, his nose hurts. The cold winter air targets his exposed flesh. “Why do I live someplace where the air hurts my face? Why do I do this?” Cas grumbles, bouncing as he tries to keep circulation in his toes. 

It’s funny, Cas thinks, his breath a swirl of mist before his eyes, just how long a minute feels when you’re standing on a porch in the middle of winter. He can see a huge decorative clock through the front window and decides that when it hits ten minutes, he’s leaving. He’ll pull over somewhere and eat a whole damn pizza himself, just out of spite. 

It’s pushing into the ninth minute, his jaw trembling uncontrollably and his fingers prick from how cold he is. He’s counting down the seconds before he up and leaves when a loud crash distracts him. A few huge thuds and some colorful cursing preludes the entire door frame shaking as something big and solid slams into it. Cas’ first reaction is to try and look through the little glass window on either side of the door; before he can it’s yanked open to reveal a man, on his knees, breathing heavily. 

“Uh...” Cas says, rather eloquently, as the guy pulls himself to his feet by the doorknob and meets his eye,  _ “You!”  _ he practically snarls.

“Me!” Dean says, a dopey smile on his face.

“I cannot  _ believe _ you left me out here on your doorstep, again!” Cas seethes. 

“About that…” Dean smiles, but Cas barrels right over him.

“Actually I’m not even surprised, that is just so like you Alpha Si–”

“Dude!” Dean interrupts, “I did  _ not _ mean to keep you here more than a minute, I swear. But I forgot where I put these things... Hey Vic, Com’ere!”

“What?” Cas says as a black guy appears beside Dean.

“This the guy?” He asks, gesturing at Cas with his thumb.

“Yeah,” Dean grins, “Can you take the pies?”

Without another word, Vic takes the pizzas from Cas and disappears into the house.

“Hey!” Cas shouts after him, taking a step forward “You’ve got to pay for those!” He stops short when Dean steps into his path.

“It’s fifty-five bucks!” Cas snaps, his eyes narrowed. “Tip your drivers!” He adds for good measure, and is pleased when Dean’s cheeks flush.

“Yeah, I know,” he says softly, licking his lips. “I’ve ordered a pizza every Friday and Saturday for the past four weeks trying to get you back here, but they kept sending someone else.”

“E... excuse me?” Cas asks, his anger deflating into confusion. 

“Yeah, look I... I felt really shitty about what happened last time.” Dean digs into his pocket and pulls out a bundle of neatly folded bills. With a shrug, he hands them over and Cas counts them.

“This––this is too much,” Cas says, pulling out a ten and trying to hand it back. Dean’s fingers curl around his, crumpling the bill between their palms. For some reason, Cas can’t make himself look away, captured by Dean’s intense gaze.

“Just, maybe, consider it me making up for last time. I felt like such a shit, and I just couldn’t stop thinking about you out here. With your nose red, and your cheeks flushed. You were so angry… and  _ adorable _ .” Dean chuckles, his eyes crinkling, before he abruptly stops, looking at Cas, his expression slightly horrified. He pulls his hand from where it’s still wrapped around Cas’ and shoves it into his pocket. The other plucks his baseball cap of and on again, like a nervous habit. 

Cas has no idea what to say; he stands there, mouth opening and closing until a shiver wracks his frame and he wraps his arms around his chest. Dean licks his lips; he looks like he’s working himself up to say something. 

“I–I was kinda hoping maybe we could start again? Like fresh? And maybe this time I wouldn’t make a complete ass of myself. But I’d gotten so used to them sending the other guy that when I heard your voice on the phone I just…” Dean breathes a nervous chuckle, popping his hat off and on again. “I may have had a few too many shots, for courage…”

“You remembered the sound of my voice?”

This time it’s Dean’s turn to shiver. “Oh, yeah.” He glances at Cas from behind his lashes. “It’s, um, distinct. Deep.  _ And then _ ,” he rushes, words blurring together in his haste to push past what he said, his cheeks coloring beautifully, freckles standing out like starlight. “I forgot where I put these.” He yanks his hands out of his jeans, claps them together,  _ hard _ , and then shakes them like maracas before holding both out, palms up. “Hand warmers,” he grins.

Stunned, Cas takes them. They’re already warm and they smell of fresh oats. He brings them up to his frosted cheeks and groans as warmth spreads across his skin. In front of him, Dean chokes, his eyes wide. 

“Dude–”

“What about...um, Lisa?” Cas asks in a rush.

“Lis? Oh man, she’s like... my sister. There’s nothing going on– _ wait _ , are you saying? You mean like, you’ll give me another chance?”

Grinning, Cas runs the hand warmers over his cheeks, tapping his fingers against them. Dean tracks every movement with hungry eyes. He’s cute, like really cute, and honestly, now that Cas is giving him a chance, he’s not such a bad guy. 

“Depends.” Cas grins, Cheshire-like, as he pulls his hands away from his face and glances down at the little warmers.

“On?” Dean asks leaning in, his brows lifted, hopeful.

“Did… did you fall down the stairs?” Cas tries not to laugh, biting into his bottom lip. Dean expression goes sheepish, glancing over his shoulder at the huge staircase.

“Um,” he takes a breath, stands up straighter, his broad shoulders almost filling the doorframe. “Yes, yes I did.”

Together, they burst out laughing. Cas doesn’t remember the last time he laughed like this, he doesn't remember the last time the  _ sound of his voice _ made someone nervous. Just the thought of this guy, of  _ Dean, _ going so far out of his way for Cas, makes butterflies take flight in his stomach.

“Okay,” he says, pulling a pen from his pocket.

“Okay?” Dean parrots, skeptical.

“Yeah,” Cas smiles, pulling Dean’s arm towards him. He quickly scrawls his number along the inside of Dean’s wrist. “Okay. Call me, I’ll give you another chance.” 

“Fuck yeah,” Dean breathes, looking from his wrist to Cas, “I will, I’ll call.”

“Okay,” Cas smiles, stepping backwards down the front steps. “Great.”

“Great,” Dean agrees, from the doorway. Cas gives a little wave and turns, skipping down the last few steps. Right before the door clicks closed behind him, Dean’s voice booms:

** _“I got his number!”_ ** _ _

A round of raucous applause follows his shout, and Cas hides his laughter behind his hands, the warmers pressed against his lips. A giddy, lightness expanding in his chest. Maybe he doesn’t hate pizza, or the Alpha Sig house, that much after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading and leaving a comment or kudo.
> 
> I love chatting and making new friends, please come say hi!
> 
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> 
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